


give me back my sympathy motherfucker

by tamsinb



Series: three acquired tastes that taste ??? together [1]
Category: Blaseball (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Gay, M/M, Mario Party, because tillmans in it lmao, casual homophobia, mike townsend can break the fourth wall because i think it's cool, yes theyre in a throuple keep scrolling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:27:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27274921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamsinb/pseuds/tamsinb
Summary: Tillman Henderson is back from the dead. And he and Mike Townsend are a thing. And Declan Suzanne is fine with it. He's a hundred percent fine with it. Totally fine with it, in fact he'd tell you himself if he were here.Okay he's not fine. But what's he supposed to do about it?(a semi-sequel toanywhere else, my previous till/dec fic)
Relationships: Mike Townsend/Declan Suzanne, Mike Townsend/Tillman Henderson, Mike Townsend/Tillman Henderson/Declan Suzanne, Tillman Henderson/Declan Suzanne
Series: three acquired tastes that taste ??? together [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2001025
Comments: 13
Kudos: 71
Collections: We Are Fanwork Creators





	give me back my sympathy motherfucker

* * *

_ “i think it’s too bad that your friends aren’t calling you anymore _

_ you come over when i’m not home on saturday _

_ maybe i’m just scared of making plans we may never keep _

_ but i can’t find a reason not to stay…” _

_ “saturday”, remember sports _

* * *

It was somewhere between the sound of the third and fourth rocks hitting his window that Declan Suzanne started to think that his life was one big cosmic joke.

He looked out the window to see his recently unincinerated… whatever-they-were-to-each-other, Tillman Henderson, standing on the lawn in front of his apartment, holding a boombox over his head with both hands.

_ That’s weird. He’s never been the romantic type, _ thought Declan, as he opened the window, only to be blasted with 80dB of bass-boosted Despacito.

He grimaced and slammed the window shut, sending Tillman into peals of harsh laughter at his expense.

_ You asshole,  _ thought Declan.  _ Give me back the time I wasted feeling sorry for your dead ass. _ He rubbed his hand against his cheek and checked the time. 1:30 am. Great. He stifled a yawn and said a silent prayer that the other people in his building wouldn’t be able to trace this back to him.

“Meow,” said Socks Maybe, entering from the side room.

“Oh hey Socks, sorry, did he wake you up?” Socks Maybe, newest member of the Chicago Firefighters. Also a cat. Possibly several cats, actually. Every so often he’d run away and another cat would come back, probably the same cat but Declan could never be  _ sure. _ He lived in Declan’s apartment despite not actually seeming to like him very much.

“Mrrrr.”

“Oh come on. You know Tillman. Got his ass killed? Came back? Somehow?” Declan paused. “Hasn’t fucking called since? That Tillman?”

“Mew.”

“No, I know I haven’t called either. Not like he’d give a shit.”

Declan sighed. He’d wanted to call, of course. Spent a day waiting for Tillman to reach out first. Then spent a second day figuring out what he’d say. Then, on the third day -

_ Resurrected Henderson seen with Credit-to-Team Townsend? Grave-Defying Romance!! _

Declan wondered why Blaseball was so overrun with tabloid reporters. Why their romance lives were so heavily scrutinized. And most of all why THREE separate people had seen the need to DM him the news stories. (At least Rosa had been kind enough not to say shit. For once.)

Getting your not-quite-boyfriend stolen by Mike Fucking Townsend. A couple seasons ago this probably would’ve been the greatest shame imaginable, even in blaseball, a splort foundationed on shame. But now? Mike was a veritable celebrity, heroically stepping aside to let his tragically-slain teammate take her place back in the spotlight. Well, that part hadn’t gone to plan. And Mike had come back anyway. But despite all that he had a narrative now, an ethos, a mystique. What did Declan have? A fucking Minecraft sword.

He sighed and turned to Socks. “Try to get back to sleep, okay? I’ll let him in.”

“Meow,” exited Socks.

Declan opened the window and looked down at the ground below to see if Tillman was at the front door already. No sign of him.

"Thought you could get rid of me that easily,  _ HUH?" _

Declan jumped and squeaked as Tillman popped his head up adjacent to the fourth floor window.

"H- How'd you get up here?"

"Pssht. I'm  _ FAST,  _ remember."

“Right.”

“Dangerous to leave your windows unlocked like that. C’mon dude, thought you were smarter than this.” Tillman climbed through and caught his foot on the pane, sending himself tumbling head over ass onto the floor of Declan’s apartment.

It wasn’t that Declan was angry, or even surprised at the fact that Tillman was an inconsiderate douchebag. That would be like being angry or surprised that a tornado destroyed your cornfield. Tillman was just that: a force of nature, no malice, no internality. Just inputs and reactions. Utterly predictable. Thinking of him like that helped Declan deal with having him around. And not around. As the case may be.

“Well what, you gonna keep standing around staring? Check me out any longer and I’ll start to think you’re fucking gay for me, dude.”

Declan averted his eyes, then realized that was stupid and went back to looking at Tillman. “No, I was just- Look, you came in my fucking window I think I’m allowed to-”

“Yeah yeah, save it dude. Just fire up the Xbox so I can kick your ass in CodBlops again, okay? Pretty sure I was up 3-2 before I left.”

“You were down 3-2. And uh, I don’t have my Xbox right now.” Rosa had thrown it in Lake Michigan when she found out they weren’t making the playoffs that season.

“Seriously dude.”

“Shut up, look I have Mario Party? Take it or leave it.”

“Ugh, you’re so bad at Mario Party it’s not even fun beating you,” Tillman said as he headed to the couch.

“You can’t be bad at Mario Party, dumbass, that game is bullshit,” replied Declan, booting up Mario Party as he flipped the TV off of the news, where coverage had shifted from elections results to talking about some giant coin. Declan truly couldn’t be bothered to give a shit, he’d stopped watching as the news came in that the Crabs were gone, and Tillman wasn’t.

***

“Hmmmmmmmmmm do I want…………… the star……….. or do I…….. skip the star…………… hmmmmmmmmm……….” Tillman had his fingers under his chin like the thinking emoji, for some fucking reason.

“Just take the fucking star dude, you’re so annoying.”

“Oh yeah? If I’m so annoying how do I have enough coins for the star then?”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“This game doesn’t even make sense. What do we even want these shit-ass stars for anyway?”

“Stars are good, dude, like in Mario64 you know?”   
  
“What’s that?”   
  
“What. Are you telling me you never played Mario64.”

“Uh, no, because I’m not a gay ass loser like you."

“Tillman you are literally all three of those oh my GOD”

“You just added another two minutes onto the Tillman buys a star timer, gaylord.”

“uuuuugggggggggHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”

***

Declan had somehow forgotten in the interim between their past hangouts the cardinal rule of playing Mario Party with Tillman: if he loses a minigame he will throw a hissy fit and quit. Which, honestly, Declan considered a moderate blessing. He didn’t know how much longer he could’ve taken it.

They’d replaced Mario Party with some banal anime, at Tillman’s request. Apparently it was the height of the art form. Declan couldn’t really tell. He was having a hard time registering anything beyond bright blurs of color and shouts in a foreign language, ever since Tillman had taken the opportunity to kick his feet over the arm of the couch and lean back into Declan, back across his side and head resting on the bone outside his heart.

The same position they’d been in for countless time-filling hours on this couch before.

Which. Like.

Was he allowed to say it felt nice?

Hm. He hadn’t been immediately incinerated as soon as he thought that. Which meant he was allowed to say-

God this felt fucking nice. Cold day heated blanket nice, fresh dryer clothes nice, hard work lemonade nice. Some pleasing combination of temperatures, his inner chill to Tillman’s outwards indomitable heat. A perfect, perfectly unfair nesting of shapes.

He couldn’t. He couldn’t keep thinking any further he’d really finally totally lose it. So he refocused on the show. Tried to.

“Okay, so what’s going on here. This one has, space powers?”

“Yeah, space powers. Like zodiac and shit. But like, mostly friendship powers you know?”

“Uh huh. Tillman this show seems like it’s for kids.”

“Yeah like fucking four year olds, isn’t it great.”

“Okay, got it, so this is one of those shows that you make people watch as a joke to see how long they last before making you turn it off.”

Tillman tilted his head back so Declan could see his smirk upside down. “Got it in one, dude. C’mon, were you expecting anything different?”

What, Tillman feign interest in something as some sort of ironic ploy to annoy the people around him? “Nope. Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“Damn right.”

The show continued as Declan started to feel a gnawing pass through him. Which was stupid, he thought. Feeling bad about it was stupid. Hadn’t he already basically known? Wow, Tillman never actually fucking liked you, big shock. You knew what he was like. That’s why you never asked him how he felt, there wasn’t any reason to. You knew as well as anyone that you should never ask questions you already know the answers to.

Tillman stirred against Declan’s chest and he started to think oh what is it this time before his brain contextualized the action: nodding back and forth. In time to the anime’s end theme. Quietly, softly, failing not to be heard, Tillman was humming along, missing every note in earnest. As if he’d heard it a thousand times before. Declan let a tension leave him and he fell further backwards into the couch, letting a bit more of Tillman’s weight fall across him. The song faded out. The episode preview played and the video ended. They didn’t put on the next one.

“Nobody on Charleston lets me show them anime.”

Declan blinked. “Well yeah I mean, they probably figure it’d be some kind of prank. Like, you’d show them something really gross or whatever.”

“Right,” said Tillman. “I mean, that’s basically exactly what I was planning to do.”

Declan laughed. “How’s it going over there, anyway.”

“Ugh. I have to fucking pitch again. Which like.” Tillman threw his arms into the air to express what it was like. “Being able to flex on people is fun. Throwing games when people know you could win them is fun. But throwing games when you’re trying your best but you just suck absolute dick? Horrible. One star. And like, the star is made of piss. Piss star.”

“Least you didn’t have to pitch in the finals.”

“Right? If I had we would’ve won the whole thing on account of how awesome I am. And then we would’ve had to fight a peanut. And get cursed or some shit. My fucking life is already cursed enough as it is.”

“Weren’t you just saying how bad you sucked.”

“That doesn’t sound like me, I’m basically the best fucking pitcher to ever do it.”

“It sure doesn’t sound like you, that’s for sure.”

“Anyway,” said Tillman, flipping over to rest on his elbows looking up at Declan. “Shoe Thieves are lame. Their gimmick is lame, stealing is lame.”

“Tillman you shoplift constantly.”

“Yeah, and I’m not supposed to, that’s what makes it cool. It’s in their name, they’re supposed to steal shoes it’s their whole deal. That’s not cool it’s just like, a job. And I will NEVER have a job.”

“Who’d fucking hire you.”

“Exactly. Exactly my point, thank you Declan.”

“The fact that you’re really bad at stealing shoes has nothing to do with it.”

“Absolutely nothing. Nothing at all.”

Declan smirked. He’d heard through the grapevine that one or two of the thieves were very upset when their new player was incapable of stealing even the most unguarded shoe. To say nothing of the fact that the player in question was Tillman himself, of course.

“Did the Crabs let you show them anime?”

“Oh yeah all the time,” laughed Tillman. “They loved it. Couldn’t get enough.”

“Somehow I find that hard to believe.”

“Oh yeah, it’s true. Nagomi liked the one I showed her so much she tried to headlock me to death with her fucking crab arm.”

They both laughed this time. Declan decided to press his luck.

“So you saw the Crabs when you played them?”

“Oh yeah, totally. Talked to them, made the rounds, saw my dear pals, all that.”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, okay, I didn’t talk to everyone. But you know. I saw. Um. Some.”

“Uh huh.”

“Like Tot, you know. Dude’s cool.”

“Right.”

“Okay, I didn’t actually talk to anyone. But, you know, I was there.”

“Uh huh.”

“In the stadium.”

“Right.”

“Okay I wasn’t actually there I skipped all of the games to avoid them.”

“Tillman.”

“What??” Tillman pushed himself up to sit on his knees, his small frame sitting at eye level with Declan’s. “What, what, fucking what. You’re gonna get mad at me for not dragging my sorry ass back to make nice with all those fucks?”

“Jesus dude where’s this coming from, everybody missed you?” His hands clutched the pillow he’d unconsciously pulled into his lap. “Like, a lot.”

“Yeah, yeah sure. The only thing they missed was killing my ass a second time. Don’t think I don’t know why I started getting all that attention. I could hear things in there, you know.”

“Tillman-”

“Maybe I should count myself fucking lucky? I mean look at sorry-ass fucking Nora down there, do you see anyone shelling out the peanuts to get her up the leaderboard? Huh? Maybe I should consider myself fortunate that people hate me enough that killing me twice sounded like a real fun group activity??”

“Look I know you’ve been holding this in but like, that stuff wasn’t us. I was with the Crabs right after it happened, you know, and we were all super mournful. And stuff.”

Tillman snorted. “Yeah? Any of that ‘stuff’ involve trying to stop them? You know what, fuck it, I don’t care. They fucked up and now I’m back and fuck literally everything else.”

“Yeah, sure. Sure Tillman, just fuck everything. Fuck it all. Spend, what, a  _ season _ in the hall and suddenly nothing else matters, who cares about anything you did or liked or were before…”

“What do you fucking know what it’s like being down there.” Tillman was standing now, and mad. Not even the kind of posturing mad he usually was, but angry down to whatever core was deep inside of him. “Literally what the fuck do you fucking know?? You don’t know shit, stop fucking talking about it, you don’t know shit!”

“Oh, but fucking Mike Townsend does??”   


“ _ YES! _ Yes he does that’s the whole fucking point!!”

As they both breathed heavily and Declan’s brain blanked past hope of forming a response, he noticed for the first time just how much Tillman’s bearing had changed. Small but pervasive through everything from how he stood to how he took the long hair off the side of his face with a fingers-out hand. The word for it was desperation, Declan realized. A frantic desire, a panicked thrashing. Though debtless in Tillman, this was the same hunger everyone had been so afraid of when it was flashing in Jaylen’s eyes.

Tillman muttered some sort of curse as he caught his breath. Looked down at Declan then turned away from the couch, dryly and aimlessly walking through whatever meager space the apartment could offer.

“You’re right,” said Declan after a bit. “I shouldn’t… I don’t know what that was like. So like, sorry.”

“Fuck off, go fuck yourself,” said Tillman, but softly. Only Tillman could curse you out as a way of saying ‘I accept your apology’.

“But like, don’t say nobody cared, dude. Cause I did. Like a lot like, way more than I expected?”

“Yeah. I know. It’s cause you’re fucking gay.”

“Yeah,” nodded Declan, “I’m pretty fucking gay.” 

Tillman dropped back onto the couch with an exhale. Declan curled his legs up against his chest and regarded him.

“So you, you’re breathing and all that?”

Tillman tilted his head horizontal to look across at Declan without moving his body. “Yeah. Yeah, I breathe again.”

“And a pulse? I know that was like, a problem for Jaylen.”

Tillman shrugged. “RIV to her, etc. Well actually wait isn’t she back again?”

“I dunno, who can fucking keep track. So that’s a yes on the pulse?”

“Why do you care so much dude, scared of a little necrophilia?”

“Ugh, gross, come on dude.”

Tillman just snickered.

“What. What was it like, though?” Declan’s voice came out small and halting, struggling to bear its own weight.

“Uh. Idk, don’t really fucking remember it. Living feels like a fucking hangover and I can’t remember anything from the night before but like, bits and pieces. And when someone says ‘Tillman you puked on the carpet’ I can be like, oh shit that’s right I puked on the fucking carpet. Radical.”

“Tillman Henderson you should’ve been a poet.”

“Shut the fuck up dude, look what do you want me to say. I’m pretty sure half the shit Jaylen said about the place is made up, lying ass…”

“She was there a lot longer than you. Maybe she-”

“Could you fucking cool it with that dude? I don’t fucking care how long I was in there, I couldn’t fucking tell. The ground fucking spit me out and my ass was like ‘oh shit hello people from season 178, I am from the distant past,,,,,,,,’ and then they were like ‘Tillman it’s been one fucking season’. Excuse me for figuring you all would let me rot a little longer.”

Declan noticed the TV had stayed on. He reached for the remote to turn it off, and now that he was sitting up he might as well tidy up some of the bottles on the table, oh and here was a little spill from dinner, better-

“Look, if you wanna ask about Mike just do it.”

“I wasn’t-”

“Sure sure sure, yeah, you weren’t, sure. Guess I gotta do everything around here.”

Declan didn’t say anything. Tillman made an irritated noise.

“I dunno. Everything was a whole fuckin  _ thing _ . Ever pop out of the ground in someone else’s stadium but you’re  _ wearing their uniform _ ? And like, your name is on the roster and everything? Plus I smelled like shit apparently, they basically threw me in the fucking shower. Their showers are way better than the Crabs’ by the way, the water doesn’t have that like  _ smell _ -”

“Tillman. Get to the fucking point.”

“Fuck you. Anyway. Everything was fucking crazy and like. I shit you not not like a fucking  _ hour _ after I’ve gotten back some Thieves asshole is like ‘hey Tillman you’ve got a visitor’ and I go out and it’s fucking?? Mike Townsend??”

Tillman was laid out across the couch now. Declan tried to put his arms elbows-up behind his head to look cool and relaxed, but he realized he probably just looked lame so he put his hands back in his pockets and found a wall to lean against.

“He sure got there fast.”

“Right?” said Tillman, staring up at the ceiling. “Dude’s a freak. Anyway, he wanted to know about Jaylen, like oh did you see her and I’m like I think?? For a second there?? And he’s like did she look okay and I’m like define okay and he was like yeah fair fair. And uh.”

“Yeah.”

“Anyway he just kinda stuck around. Wasn’t in the playoffs or anything so. He was around. Which was fine because it’s not like anyone else wanted to talk to me. And he uh. Well he’d never been dead before but he and Jaylen were. You know. Tight? I guess? Plus he’d been in the shadows for a bunch of seasons so like.”

“He got it.”

“I mean no that’s the fucked up thing he still didn’t get it. Partly because he’s pretty fucking dense. But like. He helped me fucking. Put a context on it? Like I was able to string the story together like okay first I did this then I was here now I’m back. Plus he helped me figure out I wasn’t fucking cursed or whatever the fuck like bitchass Hotdogfingers.”

“Oh yeah? How’d he do that.”

Tillman grinned wickedly. “I hit him with my fucking blaseball bat.”

_ “ _T_ illman. _ ”

“Whaaaaat? Isn’t that what everyone said badass Killman Enderson would do? God the way everyone was talking about it made it seem so  _ awesome _ but all it did was make Mike cry like a bitch.”

“Tillman you’re a pitcher.”

“Oh yeah don’t worry I know I threw a ball at him too.”

Declan paused and the two looked at each other. Then Tillman broke out into a laugh, a laugh without a trace of malice, and Declan couldn’t help but feel bad when he followed suit.

“Tillman you’re the fucking worst you know that.”

“Oh yeah?” smiled Tillman. “But look, now we know that I’m harmless  _ and _ we got rid of Hotdogbitch. And yet? No “Thank You Tilly” parades. Big shocker.”

“Again, Jaylen  _ is _ back.”

“Fuck, you’re right. How’d that even happen.”

“I think peanut shenanigans.”

“Fucking peanut shenanigans. I’ll be honest I sorta missed the whole playoffs, I figured the Crabs would sweep them before I got a chance to pitch so I just made Townsend make out with me the whole time. And hey look, just like I thought. My brain’s so fucking huge.”

Declan chose the safe option to continue the conversation. “Sorry you, you didn’t get to see them before they left.”

“Eh,” shrugged Tillman. “I don’t really give a shit? Like, with the push they got? The merch they shipped? Can’t imagine they’ll be gone for too long. Commish wouldn’t let it happen. Plus, like, Dreamy’s still here so that’s okay. And Nagomi’s still here so I live in constant fear. And MoCo’s here? Twice I think? Which is like, sure, whatever. I don’t really trust good Crabs pitchers.”

Wait, Dreamy’s here? He’d figure out that one later. At least Rosa was probably happy. Well, whatever passed for happy for her.

“Plus,” continued Tillman, “it’s not like they came to see me or anything. So fuck ‘em.”

“Hey come on that’s not fair,” started Declan. “They probably-”

“Oh yeah? Probably? Probably what? Declan?” Tillman turned on his side to look directly at him and Declan realized he was not a fan of Tillman’s newfound ability to ratchet up the tension at a moment’s notice.

“Look they probably just. Wanted to give you space. Like you’d reach out when you’re ready sort of thing. Like, you might be dealing with a lot…”

“Pfft. Bullshit. You all were just afraid I’d turn into some undead murderous freak. Well, sorry to burst your bubble but this time I’m only two out of the three.”

“Declan that’s not-”

“Oh? Then is it because you were all afraid I’d come back and be exactly the fucking same as ever? Well that one sure as fuck came true.”

“Look!” said Declan, loud enough that Tillman couldn’t interrupt, “how was I supposed to fucking call, okay?”

Tillman was silent for the longest he’d been in a good while. “At least we’re admitting we’re talking about you,” he mumbled.

“I just spent,” continued Declan, “a whole fucking season mourning your ass. Don’t ask me why the fuck I did but I shed real fucking tears over your ass, Tillman. I got a fucking  _ cat _ for fuck’s sake.”

“Does the cat play blaseball.”

“Of course the cat plays blaseball don’t be stupid.”

“Right.”

“Anyway how was I supposed to call after I found out. You know.”

“I dunno dude, how about use your fucking phone.”

“Shut up. Not in the fucking mood dude.” He tilted his head back against the wall and continued talking to no one in particular. “And it’s like, sure, I was like ‘damn isn’t that typical of that dirtbag Tillman Henderson’ but mostly I was just like ‘damn isn’t that typical of that fucking loser Declan Suzanne’.”

“Ugh god are we having a pity party? Count me out dude you suck when you’re like this.”

“Hey so like.” Turning his head back. “You and Mike are like. Actually a thing right? Like, not like whatever the fuck we were.”

“Is that an actual question.”

“Yeah dude I feel like I have the right to know.”

“Uh, no you fucking don’t. You don’t have the right to fucking shit.”

“Really.”

“Yeah dude, fucking really. Fuck off. Look, I’m gonna get a beer. You’ve got some beer around right.”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s not good. Or cold. But it’s around.”

“Perfect.” Tillman pushed himself off the couch without an ounce of grace and headed off into the kitchen.

Leaving Declan alone where Declan felt a palpable sense of  _ thoughts _ approaching so he pulled out his phone in a desperate attempt to stave them off. A set of notifications awaited him, from the same set of chucklefucks who were always trying to send him gossip articles. He clicked the one from Rosa. The message was just an eyes emoji and a news article. Declan clicked it.

_ Mike Townsend (Once Again Retreats to the Shadows) _

And Declan felt himself putting the pieces together despite his best efforts.

“Goddamn dude you weren’t kidding, this shit is terrible,” said Tillman, swigging half of the entire can in one go.

“So Mike’s gone.”

“Uh. Yeah dude, I thought you knew, weren’t you watching elections.”

“I was watching to make sure you didn’t get killed again you fucking asshole.” Declan pushed himself off the wall to walk up to Tillman. He hated to admit it but getting up in Tillman’s face and remembering that he had at least several inches on the guy was one of the only things that made him feel like he was controlling a conversation.

“Well if you were waiting for me to die then no luck there.”

“So. The Crabs left. And now Mike’s gone. And then immediately after, you end up here.”

“Look-”

“ _ I’m your third fucking choice? _ ”

“You know it’s not fucking like that.”

“Bull  _ shit _ it’s not. Guess it’s my fucking fault for thinking I’d be anything more than your fucking fallback, leave when you want, come back when you feel like it, your backup plan in case everyone else fucking leaves or gets sick of you, oh at least fucking sorry-ass Declan will always be around, huh??”

“Look dude don’t fucking project your hangups on me,” said Tillman, turning away to disengage. “That all sounds like a you problem.”

Declan gathered his breath to let out another string of words, but he found he didn’t have it in him anymore. Maybe he’d gotten it all out. Or maybe he just didn’t see the fucking point.

“I just figured,” he said. “You know. If you still wanted me around, you’d call.”

“Declan that’s literally the same exact fucking reason I didn’t call your ass.”

Declan let out the kind of laugh you can only produce when two steps away from bursting out in tears. He dropped back onto the couch and Tillman followed suit. “I guess we’re both just fucking idiots then.”

“Yeah dude,” said Tillman. “That’s like the one thing everyone agrees on. We’re fucking idiots.”

Tillman smiled, and sure it was more like a smirk than a smile, but just for a second Declan felt like maybe it was safe, maybe Tillman wouldn’t make fun of him too much if he let out a few more tears over this utter bastard who couldn’t figure out if he was alive or dead.

“uh hey guys,” came a voice, tentative and grasping. “hope i’m not interrupting anything,”

Out of the shadows at the corners of the late-night poorly-lit apartment stepped Mike Townsend.

“Mike Townsend?” said Declan.

“Mike??” yelped Tillman. Declan turned to look and Tillman seemed far more surprised than he did.

“hey guys what’s up. sorry to barge in.”

“Mike your voice sounds kinda… off somehow?” said Declan.

“huh? oh yeah probably the lowercase. sorry, being in the shadows is weird.”

“Lowercase??” asked Tillman. “What the fuck are you talking about??”

“oh yeah right i guess you guys can’t see. that’s just a joke for the people reading, then.”

“Is he always this weird,” said Declan out of the side of his mouth.

“Nope,” replied Tillman, similarly sideways. “This is pretty new to me.”

“well anyway. uh. what’s up guys?”

* * *

“Tillman if you steal that star-”

“Too late dude I’m doing it.”

“Tillman Henderson I will kill your ass fifteen more times.”

“What’s that. I can’t hear you over the sound of me totally totally stealing this star.”

“haha wow you can steal stars in this game, that’s wild.”

“Yeah,” said Declan as his star was stolen, “they took this feature out of all the later games because of its being  _ such utter bullshit. _ ”

“Not my fault all you have is the oldest fucking consoles known to man.”

“Well I’d be able to upgrade if I didn’t spend all my video game money on replacement Xboxes.”

“oh yeah i heard about that, that’s rough dude. you should like put a bike lock on your xbox or something.”

“Thanks Mike.”

“oh shit is this that minigame with the big balls you ride around on.”

“Bet you’d like to ride around on some big balls.”

“shut up tillman.”

“You shut up dude I’ll kick your ass.”

“Tillman you ran directly off the stage.”

“What. I thought I was Wario.”

“for the ten thousandth time you are yoshi. wario is the cpu. i’m dk. declan is luigi. you’re yoshi.”

“Fuck this shit. This game fucking sucks.”

“Hey Mike.”

“yeah declan?”

“No like. Offense or anything but. How the fuck are you even here.”

“oh uh none taken. and like yeah i dunno it’s different now. used to be the shadows were like, a pretty done deal. like you go in and you don’t really come out. well maybe you float around a little bit, but you definitely can’t talk to anyone, and they definitely can’t talk back. but maybe since the boss took over things are different? i don’t think she cares very much, i can basically just go wherever i want.”

“Huh.”

“Wait so I’m fucking Yoshi.”

“Yes, dude. You have been playing Yoshi for the past 15 turns. And will probably continue to do so for the 5 turns that are left, unless you quit like a fucking baby.”

“i thought you knew, i was trying not to bring up how badly you’re losing.”

“This game fucking sucks, dude.”

“It was your fucking idea to make Mike play with us.”

“Yeah, serves his ass right for making me think he left.”

“well i thought i was gone too, this is as much a surprise for me as you.”

“Yeah yeah whatever. Roll your fucking dice.”

“oh hey cool, made it to the star”

“UGH that was the one I was right next toooooo”

_ “Tillman Fucking Henderson for the last time you are playing Yoshi and not Wario. You are an entire goddamn board’s length from the star.” _

“Haha not anymore dude, look it went to the space right in front of me.”

“are you kidding me.”

“Mike do you like, want a drink? Tillman’s got dibs on the shitty beer but I’ve got like. Water. Or uh. Juice.”

“nah i’m good i think my throat is like full of soot right now or something?”

“Oh.”

“yeah from getting dragged into the shadows by a bunch of demon hands.”

“I see.”

“well, it’ll clear up soon anyway. probably.”

“Well that’s good.”

“Hey what the actual fuck is this minigame though.”

“Haha wow Tillman get fucking rekt.”

“the 1v3 minigames in this seem like. really really not balanced.”

“No yeah, totally not.”

“I’m gonna fucking wreck my hand turning this fucking knob ass controller. This could be the end of my career as a pitcher.”

“i’m sure the shoe thieves would really appreciate that.”

“Shut the fuck up dude I’m a way better pitcher than you.”

“you’re literally not. which is really funny because i’m already pretty bad.”

“Shut the fuck up shut the fuck up.”

“Okay, last turn.”

“Finally.”

“finally.”

“Why are you both looking at me like this was my idea??”

“I’m gonna steal your fucking star.”

“tillman. you are not the one stealing the star.”

_ “ _Y_ ou are fucking YOSHI dude.” _

***

Improbably, beyond all measures of chance and common sense, Tillman Henderson’s Yoshi won all three bonus stars, coming from behind for a truly miraculous win. He would proceed to gloat incessantly and intolerably for the next several minutes, before Mike and Declan nodded to each other, and Mike held Tillman’s arms behind his back while Declan hit him over the head with a pillow. They both felt better after that.

* * *

“Okay. I’m hungry. I want some fucking chips, anybody else want chips,” said Tillman, standing up abruptly from his cross-legged seat on the floor.

“I’m good,” said Declan. He was draped across the couch, kept somewhere firmly in between sleep and wakefulness by the dueling forces of the super-boring nature documentary Mike had requested, and the emotional turmoil keeping him awake.

“yeah me too.” Mike was standing close up against the wall. At least, Declan was pretty sure he was. He kinda faded out of vision a bit if you didn’t look at him for a while.

“Well fuck all of you then I’m going to get chips.”

“Sounds good.”

“see ya.”

“Don’t try to fucking stop me from getting chips it won’t work.”

“Tillman no one’s stopping you from getting chips.”

“Good. They better not. It’d be fuckin.  _ On sight.” _

“tillman just go get your fucking chips.”

“All right, fine, jeez.” Tillman made for the door, grabbed his coat (which he hadn’t brought in with him, Declan noted, which meant that he’d just left it there and it’d been hanging next to the door ever since he was here last), and headed out.

“Oh wait shit should I tell him it’s been raining today.”

“nah he’ll figure it out.”

“Well yeah, he’ll figure it out once it starts raining.”

“exactly my point.”

Declan pressed his lips together. “Didn’t take you for a bastard, Mike.”

Mike Townsend shrugged with just his shoulders. “guess he’s already rubbing off on me.”

“He tends to. If you let him. Like those plants you can’t let grow too big or else they just fucking devour everything.”

“kudzu?”

“Gesundheit.”

Mike closed his eyes in pain and Declan wasn’t quite sure why. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

“Why’d you make us watch this documentary, anyway.”

Mike looked embarrassed. “it’s stupid. the reason, i mean.”

Declan shrugged as best he could lying down. “So am I.”

“fair. i dunno like, when i got pulled back into the shadows again all i kept thinking was, aw man, not this place again. this sucks, everything’s all dead and dry. and like, you don’t realize how great animals are to have around until you’re stuck in a place without them.”

“Wanna play with Socks?”

“wait socks maybe lives here?”

“Yeah, here let me- hey Socks, you awake?”

“Mrowr.”

“Very funny Socks. Hey come on in here, meet Mike.”

Socks Maybe padded in, went directly up to Mike, and stared at him.

“hey there socks,” said Mike, going down onto his knees to be at the cat’s level. “how’s it hangin.”

“Mww.” Socks mewled with finality and hopped into Mike Townsend’s lap and fell instantly asleep.

“oh. oh yes. oh fuck yes.”

“Looks like he likes you.”

“this is the greatest day of my life.”

“He doesn’t get along with too many people so… I dunno, consider yourself lucky.”

“tillman didn’t say you had a cat.”

“Got him after he left.”

“ah.”

Declan really wanted to let it slide. He knew he should. But he was tired in about a million different ways and it slipped out anyway.

“So Tillman. Talks about me?”

“oh yeah all the time. constantly. it’s really annoying actually.” Mike smiled. Declan had no idea what face he was making.

“O- oh.”

“yeah i mean look i’m no good at beating around the bush. even though the two of you are, if the wordcount of this thing is any indication.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“you know tillman like loves you right?”

“Okay, now I know you’re fucking with me.”

“this is like the eighth time i’ve half-died, do you really think i have time to waste fucking with people.”

Declan fumbled for words and couldn’t find any. He popped up and went back behind the kitchen counter. One of Tillman’s beers would go down great right now. The sound of a light rain falling against the window suffused the room.

“So he what. Told you this?”

“him? come on dude, not in a million years.”

“Right.”

“but he’s real easy to read, once you get the hang of it.” Mike lazily dragged a hand across Socks, leaving a thin black residue that sublimated even as it was deposited.

“Think he got caught in the rain?”

“i guarantee it. but that’s okay, he probably missed it.”

“Oh yeah.” Declan was already starting to forget that Tillman had been dead until recently. It was probably bad to say he cared far more about the current conversation than any of that right now. But he’d be lying if he said otherwise. He took a miniscule sip from the beer and leaned over the counter.

“So then. What about you two?”

“me and tillman? probably about the same as you and him, i’d imagine.”

“Totally up in the air in the most frustrating way possible?”

“indebted emotionally with no direct acknowledgement?”

“You’re emotionally indebted to that fuck?”

Mike smiled and looked down at the fast-asleep Socks. “couldn’t let you be the only one.”

“It okay if I ask how?”

“guess so. but i dunno it’s like. i’m not sure how to say it. he’s so. out there. and i’m so.”

“Right.” Mike wasn’t going to say it but Declan understood.

“anyway. is it bad that i think he’s kind of. cool.”

Declan burst out laughing. “Yes 100% it definitely is. The worst thing you could possibly say, actually.”

“yeah, yeah i know,” said Mike, also laughing. “i could literally never say it to his face. he’d be insufferable about it until the end of time.”

“More insufferable,” corrected Declan.

“right, right. more insufferable.”

Declan took a swig of the beer, then winced. It was truly awful stuff.

“You’re a piece of work, Mike Townsend, you know that?”

“guilty as charged.”

“So. What now.”

“well. what if we went somewhere. the three of us.”

“Are you fucking suggesting a date right now.”

“call it what you want. as for me it is explicitly not a date, and i suggest you say the same if tillman’s in earshot.”

Declan exhaled everything in his lungs and seriously considered downing the entirety of his remaining drink.

“i mean look,” continued Mike, “if all you want is for the two of you to keep no homo making out on the couch while you play video games, that’s cool with me. and if you wanna try to go for something else, also cool. or you can just go with the flow, you do you, i’m not here to get in the way. just, you know. might give a little prod here and there. for fun.”

Declan scrutinized Mike’s mostly-there form. It was hard to argue with what he said, especially when just thinking the word date was making Declan’s fist tighten up in the sweetest way. He slid his beer to the side and nodded. Turns out Mike Townsend is a pretty all right guy, guess it made sense why everyone liked him so much these days. And why Tillman opened up to him, of all people. Declan almost thought he could see what Tillman saw in him, which made him feel a bit… jealous. Yep. Jealous. That was what this feeling was, jealousy and nothing else, and he would stop thinking about that train of thought at once.

“and like look. don’t tell him i told you this.”

“Yeah?” said Declan, moving back to the couch.

“well he didn’t really know if he was gonna make it past the end of the season or not. and he didn’t want to reach out to you if he was just gonna go right back. so.”

“That’s fucking stupid.”

“that’s what i told him. but he wouldn’t do it. he made me take him to chicago right before elections, that way, assuming he didn’t die, he could see you asap.”

“And if he did die, he’d die in Chicago.” Where I’m from, added Declan in his head on reflex. “The worst possible place to die.”

“hey look at me, i ended up fine. anyway all i’m saying-”

_ “Holy Fucking Shit.” _ said Tillman, bursting through the door moderately wet.  _ “I Forgot What Rain Was.” _

“welcome back tillman.”

“Oh yeah, forgot to mention it would rain. My bad.”

“Are you fucking kidding dude that was amazing. Love this rain shit. All about it. And I got chips too. Life is good.” He shook his hair off, splashing water over several things that should not have water on them, and yanked a bag of cool ranch dloritos out of an inner pocket.

Declan and Mike exchanged a furtive glance.

“Hey wait a sec,” said Tillman, flecks of dlorito stuck to his lower lip. “What the hell were you two talking about anyway.”

Shit.

“oh, declan was telling me about a barcade nearby. said he could kick your ass at pacman.”

“Like fucking hell he can, I fucking own at pacman. We’re going tomorrow.”

“O- okay,” said Declan. Damn, he thought. I guess Mike does really know how to deal with Tillman.

“Hell yeah. Your ass is grass motherfucker.”

“sounds good. see you all then. hey uh. actually my connection is kinda. going a little haywire? so i’ll pro-”

And then Mike Townsend was gone, dropping Socks Maybe a few inches onto the ground with a thoomp.

“I think he was going to say he’d see us tomorrow.”

“No fucking shit dude. Anyway I’m sleeping in your bed. You can sleep there too if you’re fucking gay.”

“Nah,” said Declan. “I think I’ll be gay some other time and sleep on the couch tonight.”

“Whatever, dude. You know you love me.”

You fucking idiot, he thought. Of course I do.

“Oh hey Tillman.”

Tillman stopped in front of the door to Declan’s room. “Yeah dude.”

“Saying this now before I fall asleep like so I don’t forget or anything. But before you go back to Charleston you should like, take some of my shoes. Say you stole them. They’ll probably like you better.”

“Fuck off, as if I want your nasty ass shoes.”

Worth a shot, he thought, as Tillman walked into his room.

“Not like you’d ever get me to leave again,” Declan heard him say, back turned so it was still faint. Declan knew what he heard, but he was gone before Declan could ask him to say it again or maybe a hundred times or maybe just enough so that it would stay stuck in his memory for as long as he needed it and no longer.

Oh well. Guess he’d just have to burn it in there himself. Just like Tillman to leave him with all the work. He found a blanket draped over the back of the couch and curled it around himself and until sleep found him he lay there on the couch repeating to himself all the things he was glad to hear Tillman say again.

**Author's Note:**

> (Hey Tam here! Long after this originally got published. Hi how are ya! Ummmmmm so somehow this inspired someone to write a song?? And that song is on a garages album??  
> Here's a link to the song, which is called [shutout](https://thegarages.bandcamp.com/track/shutout), which is by madden whose bandcamp I would link if it existed but instead I will just link to their [profile on here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedsaint/pseuds/crookedsaint) [where they also write rlly good tillmikelan stuff u should check out].  
> It's literally fucking me up to this very second, especially as someone who can't draw for shit & can't play like half the fuckin barre chords cause it hurts her fuckin hands!! Fuck you A shape!! It's so wild to me that people like this enough to have emotions. I just wanted to write boys playing mario party lmao. Okay, signing off. Bye-ya!!)
> 
> Welp, the Crabs have sure been going crazy over this one. Myself included. Proud to be contributing to the burgeoning field of Towndersuzanne fic. I think that's what the kids are calling it these days.
> 
> Not really sure how Mario Party became such a fixture in this. Oh well.


End file.
